Page 36 of Fated for Flames
Which meant again next week.
24
Evelyn
It was Monday, and I was eager to see the effects on Miss Clarissa, now that one-third of the dark book, concealed within her office wall, had begun siphoning her magic.
Observing from the corridor, I could discern the subtle changes in her appearance. She seemed diminished in some intangible way, more ragged, more wearied than her usual formidable self. If Lia was indeed the one reaping the benefits of this magic leeching, as I suspected, then there was a certain satisfaction in knowing that the stolen power was being drawn from someone who didn’t deserve to have it.
Instead of attending class, I went straight to the academic counselor’s office…again. I had seen her more in the past three weeks than in my entire time here before.
“Evelyn, come in,” she invited me with a smile, motioning toward the chair opposite her desk.
I took the offered seat, surprised at the sympathy in her voice.
“I’ve heard about what happened in Miss Clarissa’s class,” she declared, folding her hands with furrowed brows.
“You have?”
She nodded. “Yes, Professor Lucien made a formal complaint about the incident.”
Lucien had? That was unexpected.
“I see.”
“But don’t worry.” She leaned back in her chair and her concern morphed into a smile. “We’re taking this matter very seriously. Miss Clarissa is under investigation.”
A flicker of triumph flashed through me at that.
“I’ve been thinking about my class schedule,” I began cautiously. “I’d like to drop Mal-Intent and take up Supernatural History instead.”
The counselor raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh! That’s an unusual request.”
“It might be. Still, Miss Clarissa doesn’t seem to have much to teach me, and I decided to learn more about the other supes…not just witches.”
I held my breath, waiting for her response.
She considered it for a moment before nodding slowly. “Given your grades and recent ordeals in Miss Clarissa’s class, I’ll make the recommendation. I don’t foresee any issues with it being approved.”
I let out a sigh of relief, grateful for the small victory.
* * *
It was time for the dreaded “sparring” lesson in Tactical Defense Training, and although I was nowhere near the level of the other shifters, I was excited. I’d most likely get knocked out, but hey,I could heal quickly, not as quickly as before the arrival of the dark-smut siphoning book, but I wasn’t afraid of a little pain.
As I was warming up and Chad was talking to the professor, I was hit once again by a cement truck, landing on all fours on the grass.
Yay, on the ground again!
I rose to my feet, fists clenched, though I knew better than to act on impulse. I wasn’t yet strong enough to retaliate.
“You know you can’t be all that smart, Viper,” I yelled after him.
“Excuse me,” he sneered, his disdain clear.
“Bullying a powerful witch. You do realize I can shrink your junk with just the snap of my fingers, right?”
Muffled snickers from the observing shifters filled the air, but Viper’s laughter cut through them all, harsh and mocking.
